A Lethal Time (A Samantha Jamison Mystery Volume 4) (16 page)

Chapter 68

Separating Fact From Fiction

I had arranged to meet with Sarah without her husband, George, around. This way she might feel free to speak her mind. Even though George was cooperative, I wasn’t sure what he hoped to accomplish by confiding in us.

Maybe he was looking to incriminate his wife, Sarah. What for? A distraction? Or, was he trying to dump her? If so, he had a strange way of doing it. Things were
never
as simple as they appeared on the surface.

What was Sarah after? Was she stringing her husband along until something better came knocking? Was she really who George claimed she was, a former hairdresser? Was there something more going on here than met the eye?

Were they both telling the truth about each other? Or was I being deliberately distracted, and if so, why? Okay, no need to go there. I’d been there so many times before I felt dizzy, as though I was in a revolving door.

I tapped the doorbell and within a minute she answered. Her shoulder-length auburn hair was tastefully styled. She wore what looked like designer jeans, plain flats and short-sleeved top. Nothing exposed, skin or otherwise, were in sight. It was the perfect conservative outfit.

I also noticed the absence of tattoos or rubies of any kind. She was checking me out at the same time. Now that we were alone, with no one else distracting either one of us, there was time to evaluate the other.

“Samantha, I was glad to hear from you. Do you have any news regarding my missing woods?”

I shook my head. “I’m sorry. No news on that front.”

A flicker of disappointment briefly flashed by. She stepped back from the door. “Please, come in. I have refreshments for us in the kitchen.”

Having been in their house before, I feigned surprise at the charming interior, which apparently I already knew was restored with a sharp eye for historic detail. “Very nice.”

“Thank you, but I can’t take the credit. My interior decorator handled the whole thing. George and I merely agreed to the price.”

And what a price I bet it was. Did she care? I doubted it, her having married into a great meal ticket. She was still talking, but apparently, I hadn’t caught the first part.

“…George is such a darling when it comes to fine detail. He has spared no expense just to make me happy, but…”

I jumped on it. “But what?”

“Living the good life might soon be a thing of the past.”

“Why do you say that?”

“George said that our money is virtually all gone.”

“You’re kidding!”

“No. He claims bad investments, but I think he might be involved in something shady.”

Chapter 69

Cover Ups & Covering Up

Okay, when did this interview turn on a dime, leaving me trying to scrape together a new angle on getting info? Was she trying to throw me by making that provocative statement? Why confide in me? Another diversion?

I sat back thinking over what George had warned me about. Were they both playing off each other to protect something? If not, what could they hope to accomplish by throwing a distraction into the mix?

“Why would you think that?” I asked.

“I can’t put my finger on anything specific, but he has been acting strange lately.”

“In what way?”

“He thinks I’m not paying attention, but he is doing things that he normally wouldn’t do.”

“Like what?”

“I’m almost embarrassed to admit this, but it all started when I thought he might be having an affair on the side.”

Old George was having an affair?

“How about we start at the beginning and maybe I can make sense out of what you’re trying to tell me,” I said.

“Well, it all began a few months ago when I was going to New York for a few days. A friend of mine took me to the airport so I wouldn’t have to leave my car there. We got about three miles out when I realized I had forgotten something important and needed to go back to get it. When we were about to turn the corner onto my road, I saw George driving my car, turning in the opposite direction.”

“Why did you find that suspicious?”

“He claimed he couldn’t drive because of his eyesight and his bad back. So I’ve been driving us everywhere.”

“Did you ever bring up that one sighting with him?”

“After I thought it over, I figured maybe I was jumping to conclusions about being so suspicious of him and said nothing. Maybe he took the car out for a lark that one time. But it happened several more times after that initial incident. I even tried to follow him in a car I had rented for one trip to the airport, but I lost sight of him at a light.”

“What do you think is going on?”

“I don’t know.” Then her face reddened. “I hate to admit this, but I found his diary and snuck a peek at it.”

“Anything in it you’d want to share?” I asked eagerly.

“Not one damn thing about another woman. Although I began reading about some kind of ring he spotted one day.”

“What kind of ring?”
Did she suspect he knew?

“I never found out. I heard him coming down the hall and put the diary back in its hiding place in his bedroom. After that, he must have hid it in another location.”

His bedroom?
“…You sleep in separate rooms?”

Sarah looked down at her lap. “Yes, since his accident.”

Chapter 70

Accidentally On Purpose?

“What accident?” I asked.

“A year ago when he was riding that unpredictable horse, Boss, George broke his leg and bruised his ribs. I wanted to shoot that nasty horse right there on the spot.”

I understood her frustration.
“I see.”

“No you don’t! All George did was sweet talk Sally and Tom into taking Boss. That was still too close for me.”

That explained why Sarah was so upset.

“Does George ever go over to see Boss now?”

“No! He promised he was finished with Boss and had nothing more to do with him. But now, he ignores my horses, too. I don’t know what has come over him. Why would he be behaving so strangely?”

“Do you mind if I ask about your separate bedrooms?”

“Not at all. He claims he is in too much pain to sleep in the same bed and moved into the guest bedroom.”

I looked over at her and thought that very strange. She was a stunner. Why would he give her the brush-off and move to a separate room? What was going on that he didn’t want her to see? Was he coming and going at odd hours?

There was no end to the constant possibilities going on inside my head. I needed more information to go on. Was Sarah telling the truth? I’ve walked down that iffy truth road so often I’d become a chronic doubter.

I switched topics. “Have you noticed all the traffic going up and down the road lately?”

“Nothing that would make me suspicious. Why? Is there something going on that I should know about?”

I wasn’t sure I wanted to push further on that, yet. I was still trying to figure out where she fit in with George’s accusations. In a way, I felt she was upset and telling the truth, but then I had the feeling she might be talking herself out of a verbal trap in which I might catch her. Was she the one in the dark as to what was really going on about the parts, or was George the innocent as he claimed to be?

Speaking of partners, if they were in this together, then they were throwing red herrings, so to speak, to keep me chasing my tail trying to figure what was going down when all the while it was happening right in front of me.

“I need you to be straight about something else, Sarah.”

“Go ahead. I want to help you all I can.”

“What were you doing at the rally the other night?”

“Which night?”

That threw me. “…That night of that barbecue tent incident when all the fights started.”

She chuckled. “I
thought
you saw me.”

“I did, including your three buddies. Why the outfit?”

“I was looking for George and needed to blend in.”

Chapter 71

The Change Up

Now, there were a lot of ways I could approach this, but the one that first came to mind was the best, being direct.

“Did you find him?”

She hesitated, then smiled. “You
know
I didn’t.”

I chuckled. “You saw me follow you in the dark?”

“You and your friend, Crystal, weren’t exactly subtle.”

“The art of surveillance is one of my weaknesses.”

“But I applaud your bravery in following the unknown.”

“The unknown fascinates me. …So, who was he?”

“You’re not being subtle now, are you?”

“It’s an adjective with the least rewards at the moment.”

“You’re full of surprises, Samantha.”

“So are you. Now, just tell me who he was.”

“…He’s my brother from…”

I finished for her. “…Boston?”

“Correct.”

“He’s not exactly friendly.”

Sarah frowned. “No, that’s one of his negatives.”

“And his positives?”

“He’s trying to protect me from someone who is trying to extort money from me and doesn’t trust anyone.”

“Now, why would someone be doing that?”

“They have certain information about me that I don’t necessarily want …uh…George to know about.”

“Would this info upset him in anyway?”

“Guaranteed to.”

“Why would you need your brother to protect you?”

“I don’t want to pay any more money because, now that my money-well is running dry, I can’t fudge funds anymore to pay them off.”

“So what’s the big deal if George finds out? What would you lose then?”

“I might lose George.”

“I thought you were in it strictly for the money.”

“No. I actually love the old fool, aggravation and all.”

“So what don’t you want George to know?”

“I’m not prepared to tell you yet. I need to try this on my own.”

I was confused. “Do what on your own?”

She sighed. “I’m not sure who’s blackmailing me.”

This was crazy.
“Why would you be paying money to an individual when you have no idea who they are? How do you know they are telling the truth? How do you know they actually have any proof?”

She gave me a sharp look. “Of course they have proof! Nothing personal, but do I look like I have blonde hair?”

I bit back a retort. “None taken. What’s the proof?”

“A photo of me and someone else who will for the moment remain anonymous.”

Who was in that picture? Who was blackmailing her?

Chapter 72

The Once Over, Once Again

After talking to George, and then Sarah, I still wasn’t satisfied with where they stood in my book as far as truthful information was concerned. So I took another route and went back to Robinson’s. But this time I’d take a look at his barn. So far all I’d checked out was his house.

As I stared up at the barn, I knew Robinson’s family had already gone through it looking for anything valuable, but I still wanted to see it with my own two eyes plus five other sets of eyes. My crew insisted on joining in on the search.

Clay and Crystal pulled on the heavy doors and they creaked open. I stepped forward, the first to enter the two-story barn. Spotting a trap door that led to a lower level, I warned the ladies to watch their step on the old floorboards.

We were searching for the unusual, but only found rusty tractor chains and harnesses in the stalls, everything you’d expect to find in a barn that sat undisturbed for many years, including small bales of hay stacked in the upper loft.

“Well, I don’t see any dead bodies yet,” said Martha.

Betty turned on her. “What a dreadful thing to say!”

Hazel merely shrugged. “Lucky for her.”

“What do you mean?” Martha asked, annoyed.

“You would be the first one out the door if we did.”

“Says who?”

Hazel looked up. “Why, I do believe I just saw a bat!”

Martha ducked, but then realized she’d been had.

“Just watch out for the black widow spiders,” she said.

Hazel grabbed onto Crystal in a panic. “Oh, my!”

Crystal removed Hazel’s fingers. “Hey, easy on the vice grip. You should’ve worn boots if you’re that jumpy.”

Clay nudged me. “How can we accomplish anything if they are always bickering, taunting each other like this?”

“Look, you know how they get when they’re frustrated. It’s almost time to go home and we don’t have any...”

As I spoke to Clay, something in my upper peripheral vision caught my eye. Two bales had moved in the loft. Everyone followed my gaze as the bales shifted once again.

Pointing, I whispered, “Who do you think is up there and listening to us? That ladder, quick!”

In seconds, Clay retrieved it and motioned for the rest of us to get back into one of the stall areas where we would be better protected. Not wanting to stand there wasting any time arguing over who should climb the ladder, I ushered everyone out of the way.

We stood there watching and speculating in low whispers what it might possibly be as Clay slowly climbed up. For once I was glad Clay took the lead on this with his extra hundred pounds of solid muscle.

He turned back signaling for us to be quiet, while he stealthily stepped off the last rung and disappeared from our view...